When I was a kid, parents and teachers alike decried kids’ reading comic books, asserting that they weren’t “real” books, that kids couldn’t learn from them, that they were “lazy reading,” and more.
My own parents didn’t give me any grief about the comic books I read—mainly Little Lulu, Nancy, Henry, and Donald Duck—because I was such a voracious reader of “real” books that they never had to worry. For economic reasons, they curtailed the number of comics they bought for me, but that was purely a fiscally based decision. It had nothing to do with the value—or alleged danger—of comic books.
When my daughter was young, there was still the same old cry about comics, but having read them myself as a child with no great harm befalling my reading skills, I was tolerant of her appreciation of the medium.
And I still stand foursquare on the side of this time-tested form of recreational reading.
Let me state upfront that I have no dog in this race. In fact, if anything, as a book author, I should be in the camp of those who scorn “mere” comic books as “not real reading.”
But I’m not.
I have never written a comic book, don’t own stock in a comic book company…no dog in this race at all. But I see no evil in a child’s devouring a comic book. In fact, I see good.
If a reluctant reader (as so many kids are) can be enticed into reading a comic book, well, hey, guess what…he/she is reading. And I say that’s a good thing. As he reads the comic books, he practices his reading skills. He learns to appreciate the written word…even if more of each page is given over to pictorial matter than to verbiage.
I am not familiar with the comic books of today. I don’t know what’s around. When I was a kid, there were three types: “funny” comics (like the ones I mentioned above), action/adventure comics (Superman and his ilk), and the so-called “Classic Comics,” which retold classic novels like the Three Musketeers in comic book form. (These were aimed at older kids, and sometimes kids who were assigned a classic novel for English class would try to skate by by reading the Classic Comics version.)
I haven’t read a comic book in decades, but I still read the “funnies” in the newspaper. I love The Pajama Diaries, For Better or for Worse, Brewster Rockitt, Curtis, Zits, Baldo, and Baby Blues, to name some of my favorites. I don’t read them instead of the news. I read both. And if a child reads both comic books and “real” books, where’s the harm.
Even if a child reads almost exclusively comics, he may be one of those reluctant readers I referred to earlier, and isn’t it good that at least he’s reading something. When he becomes more proficient and comfortable at reading—through practicing on comic books—he may “graduate” to “real” books.
If he’s proficient at art, he may even grow up to become a comic book or comic strip artist, or if not a comics artist, then a comics writer—and that’s not too shabby a career. Some of the artists and writers of the more popular strips pull down a very decent dollar.
(Not everyone is cut out to be a rocket scientist or brain surgeon or lawyer or Silicon Valley entrepreneur.)
So let’s hear it for comic books. They’re fun, they’re relaxing, most of them are wholesome…but best of all they’re a stepping stone toward more serious reading.
And as the author of so many books (hey, maybe I do have a dog in this race after all), I say that’s a good thing!